


Take Me Home

by acclaimedwriter



Category: Casualty (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-08
Updated: 2019-12-08
Packaged: 2021-02-25 21:07:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,496
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21711934
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/acclaimedwriter/pseuds/acclaimedwriter
Summary: Extended scene to Series 32, Episode 10. Alone with his bottle of whiskey, Dylan needs someone who understands the urge to self-destruct. [Implied romantic connection between Dylan and Miriam]
Relationships: Dylan Keogh/Miriam Turner





	Take Me Home

He sits alone with a bottle of whiskey, a recipe for disaster for a recovering alcoholic. He doesn't do feelings. He doesn't get close to others because it hurts. He pours himself a glass and figures it is one of two things. He either gets drunk to numb his feelings or he allows himself to feel the pain.

The latter isn't an option as he finishes the glass of whiskey and pours himself another one. It's a pretty shit life when you hit forty and you're still finding the solutions to life's problems at the bottom of the bottle. He picks up his phone and scrolls through his list of contacts and stops on her number.

He stares at the bottle of whiskey and then at his phone. He presses the call button and holds the phone to his ear.

It rings for a couple of seconds before a distinctive voice answers the phone, "Dylan?"

It's a voice he hasn't heard for a while and he takes a deep breath, "Miriam, I—"

There's a pause on her end of the phone. Dylan never really rang her. Well, she'd received the odd phone call every now and again since she left Holby but this phone call felt different. There was something different. It didn't feel like one of his ordinary calls.

"Dylan?"

"I need to see you." He states as he swirls the glass of whiskey in his other hand.

"Where?"

He has two choices with that. Home or the Hope and Anchor. Home is probably the most sensible choice of the two. It means he wouldn't have to bump into anyone he knows. Plus, if he does decide to fall of the wagon in spectacular fashion, he's already at home.

"The boat." He replies gently and she informs him she'll be there within the hour. The call disconnects and Dylan throws his phone over to the other side of the room and proceeds to drink his second glass of whiskey.

Miriam's true to her word, she does arrive within the hour. Half an hour to be exact. She stares at him before wrapping her arms around him and hugging him tightly. When she eventually breaks from their embrace, she steps into the boat.

"What's wrong?" She asks. She doesn't need to be a genius to work out something was clearly bothering Dylan. She catches sight of the bottle of whiskey on his table and sighs deeply.

"I don't know." Dylan answers as he pours her a glass and hands it to her. She smiles, accepts the glass of whiskey and sits opposite him.

"Why did you ring me?"

He sighs, "I need a friend."

She nods, acknowledging his spoken words. She sips the whiskey.

"You and I both know the answers aren't found at the bottom of the bottle."

He knows she's right. (Hell, she was always right) All alcohol ever did was cause problems, it never did solve them. Still it was so much easier to drink than try and acknowledge feelings and emotions. He'd never been good at doing that.

"I, I did a stupid thing."

She doesn't reply, only listens. She swirls the whiskey around in the glass and sips it quietly, every now and again glancing over to Dylan.

"I smuggled someone illegally into the UK."

She laughs for a minute or so until she realises that Dylan was being serious and he really did do something illegal. It surprises her. For as long as she's known Dylan he was always a stickler for the rules.

"What an earth were you thinking?"

"I wasn't."

"Clearly!" She can't believe he'd be so irresponsible and stupid, "Did you even consider the consequences had you been caught?"

Dylan doesn't respond which only adds to Miriam's suspicions that he really didn't think things through very well. There's a few minutes of awkwardness between the two of them before he responds;

"I didn't invite you over for a lecture."

She raises an eyebrow but doesn't comment. She finishes her glass of whiskey and stands up, heading to the bottle of whiskey. It's only as she's pouring herself a second drink, she notices the disapproving look that Dylan gives her and shrugs.

"If you insist on drinking, I insist on joining you."

"I forgot how annoying you were."

He says as he pours himself another glass. There's a comfortable, if not slightly awkward silence between the two. Dylan's lost in thought, Miriam's staring at the bottom of the glass wondering if he'll break the silence between them. To Miriam's relief he does.

"I felt normal, that I had something that was mine."

"You've changed Dylan." She smiles softly as they make eye contact over the table. He had changed. He wasn't so sarcastic or as hard-hearted as he used to be. He smiles slightly knowing what she means. He really had changed. He mutters something about living in the city and it making him soft.

Then he remains silent.

"Why did you really ring me Dylan?"

The bottle of whiskey is almost empty but he manages to fill up his glass one last time.

"I needed a friend." He sighs before necking the liquid and replying, "I needed someone who understood."

"Understood what?"

He doesn't speak as they make eye contact again and he stands up. He heads over to the cupboard where there's another bottle of whiskey and brings it over to the table. He sits down and eventually answers Miriam's question.

"The need to self-destruct."

Now it's Miriam's turn to sigh. She had an issue with alcohol in the past, the need to drink every morning and night to make it through the day. It's how she'd been able to spot the signs of alcohol dependency in Dylan.

"The answers aren't found in the bottom of the bottle."

He nods and verbally agrees but then again there's that silence between them.

"What are you feeling?" She asks gently.

"Nothing."

"No, you feel something that's why you're drinking, to stop you from feeling."

He rolls his eyes softly, wondering why he did invite her over after all. It would be much easier to get drunk without Miriam attempting to give him a psych session. She finishes the whiskey in her glass before she asks, "What are you feeling?"

He sighs deeply, "Hurt, upset, lonely, lost, disappointed. Shall I continue?"

She meets his gaze from over the table. "Only if you want too?"

He doesn't answer but he does top up her glass. There's that silence between them again. Dylan's wondering what to say and Miriam's hoping he'll say anything to break the ongoing silence.

It's a while before he speaks again.

"I miss you."

She laughs and shakes her head fondly, "You don't miss me. You miss having someone to box your ears in when you're being annoying."

"Do you ever wonder what—"

Miriam cuts him off slightly harsher than she intends too, "Let's not even go there!"

He meets her gaze from over the table, sighs deeply before nodding. Dragging up the past never did anyone any favours. There's that slightly awkward silence between them again and Miriam finishes the whiskey.

"How's Holby?"

"Same old."

She smiles. She misses it at times, the department, mostly when she needs a distraction. They continue to drink and engage in small talk. Miriam's aware that she's beginning to get drunk. Whiskey on an empty stomach was never a good idea. She should really know better at her age, shouldn't she?

Dylan's drunk too.

He catches her gaze from over the table. She doesn't know if its the whiskey, the fact she's drunk or him but she swears there's an uncomfortable feeling in her stomach. Something she'd class as butterflies in her younger years.

"Will you stay the night?"

She slides the empty glass towards him, "I'm far too drunk to drive home." She states as she stands up. She moves and heads in the direction of the bathroom. On her return, he passes her another glass of whiskey and she laughs gently.

"Why do I have a feeling being drunk isn't a good idea?"

Dylan shrugs and necks his whiskey in one. She does too and places the empty glass on the table. She finds herself locking eyes with Dylan again.

He catches her gaze and they both just end up staring at each other for a minute. She bit down on the lower lip before he locks lips with hers. She gasps in surprise and pulls away.

"We can't." She states.

He nods, "Look me in the eye and tell me you don't feel what I do?"

She doesn't speak as she closes her eyes and kisses him again. He deepens the kiss, their tongues fighting for dominance before they end up making passionate love on the settee. It's only when he's lying on top of her, trying to catch his breath that he whispers; "I miss you."

She doesn't respond. Maybe, just maybe, she missed him too.

**Author's Note:**

> I actually quite enjoyed Miriam and Dylan’s relationship.


End file.
